


Trust Issues

by NeverHadThePlot



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Daddy Phil, Little! Clint, Non-Sexual Age Play, Trust Issues, Uncle Nick Fury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-10 04:28:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13494970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeverHadThePlot/pseuds/NeverHadThePlot
Summary: Clint doesn't trust his handler in the field and it's causing issues. On his last warning, Clint will do anything for a chance to stay with SHIELD. What happens when Phil takes him home and introduces him to the world of age-play in an attempt to build some trust between the two of them?





	Trust Issues

“I made the shot! I don’t understand what the big deal is!” Clint exclaimed, glaring across the desk at his handler.

“The ‘big deal’ Barton, is that you don’t trust me. You purposefully dropped your com and disabled your tracker. You could’ve been injured or killed or captured and I would have had no way of knowing, no way of finding you.”

“Yeah, well, the last person I trusted stabbed me in the back and left me to bleed to death in an alley. Don’t take it personally.” Clint was looking anywhere but at Coulson.

Coulson sighed, “I’m taking you off active duty-”

“What? You can’t do that Coulson. I made the shot. I did my damn job.”

“And you could’ve gotten yourself killed.” Coulson’s glare was glacial. “I am taking you off active duty until such a time as I deem it safe for us to be out in the field together. You will meet me back here at 1800. You will bring a go bag.”

“Where are we going?” Clint demanded.

“It’s a trust building exercise Barton. You have to learn that I have your best interests at heart. You have to learn to trust me.”

“And if I can’t?” There was a vulnerability behind his glare, as though he expected to be kicked to the kerb, left in the alley again. 

“You can Clint. This will take time, I know. I have to prove myself worthy of your trust before you will be able to give it to me,” Coulson said gently.

“You don’t have to do this for your other agents.” Clint pointed out.

“They don’t have your past. Or your skills.”

“You mean they aren’t as big a screw-ups.”

Phil sighed, “You’re not a screw-up Clint. Trust me, we’ll work this out together.”

“Sure, yeah, whatever. Can I go now?”

“Check in with medical.” Clint rolled his eyes and left the office.  
…

 

Clint was agitated when he sat in the car. His leg was bouncing up and down, his hands clenched into tight fists. Ten minutes into the drive he broke and asked again, “where are we going sir?”

Phil sighed, but answered, knowing it would be worse not to. “Home.”

“You’re taking me home with you?” He asked, incredulous.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I’ll explain when we get there.” Clint scowled, but otherwise didn’t comment. The rest of the journey was filled with a tense silence.

Phil let Clint in first, instructing him to take his shoes off and hang his coat up. He than gave him a quick tour of the house, instructing him to leave his things in the spare bedroom before sitting them both on the couch with a glass of water.

“So, you gonna tell me what this is about now sir?” Clint asked, the righteous indignation from the office now having given way to a deeper vulnerability he couldn’t quite hide.

Phil took a deep breath, he had no idea how his asset was going to take this idea. “You need to learn to trust me to take care of you, and I need to be sure you will follow my orders in the field, agreed?” Clint nodded cautiously. “One of the easiest ways for us to do this is to learn to do those things in a controlled environment, where external factors such as bullets and hydra goons aren’t an immediate threat to our safety.” 

“Sure, so what, you want me to fall back with my eyes shut and hope you catch me a couple of times or something?”

Coulson’s lips twitched at the sarcasm. “Not quite. Have you ever heard of age play?”

Clint tensed up. “Is that a sexual thing?”

Coulson inclined his head a little. “It can be, but it wouldn’t be under these particular circumstances. In this scenario you would act young, between the ages of one and ten, whichever you feel most comfortable playing or fall into naturally. And I would be the adult who takes care of you. If you need something, or want something, you’d have to ask me for it because you’d be too small to take care of yourself. I believe that as we progress through this, as I provide for you, you’ll begin to trust me.”

“So you want me to call you Daddy?” Clint asked sceptically.

“Sure, or Uncle Phil, or Mister Coulson if you find it more comfortable.”

“You know I didn’t have the greatest childhood Coulson.”

“Then let me give you a better one,” Phil said earnestly.

“What will you do if I miss behave, you know it’s going to happen.”

“Punish you accordingly.”

“How?” Clint pressed, “will you spank me?” He smirked, but Phil could see the fear in his eyes, the hidden pain that told him he was thinking of his father’s beatings.

“Never. I don’t believe in harming children. It would be things like no desert or taking time out.” Clint relaxed a little and nodded, “We’ll have a safe word too, so that the scene will stop if either of us feels uncomfortable.”

“Okay, what is it?”

“You choose one, it has to be something you’re unlikely to say in everyday life but that’s easy to remember.”

Clint thought for a moment, “Budapest.”

Phil smiled, the nightmare mission, the one Clint still refused to reveal the details of. “Okay, I don’t think either of us is likely to say that by accident.”

“When are we starting this?”

“In the morning. I think we’re both too rung out for tonight.”

“Don’t we have to go to work?”

“No. Indefinite leave, with pay for both of us until I deem it safe for us to return to the field together. Fury’s sending me any paperwork he needs me to sign.”

“Does he know what we’re doing?”

Phil sighed, “Yes. But this is classified, Level 10, only the three of us will ever know and we will never do this outside of this house.” Phil promised.

“I don’t really have much choice, do I?”

“Of course you do.”

Clint let out a self-depreciating laugh, “Yeah, sure I do. You’re the last handler left to pass me off to. No one else would have me and even you have to resort to a hair-brained scheme.”

Coulson frowned and placed his hand on Clint’s knee, “You don’t have to do this, if you don’t want to. We can come up with something else.”

Clint shrugged, “’s okay. We can at least give it a test run, right?”

“Right,” Phil agreed with a small smile, “Is there anything else you need to ask?” Clint shook his head. “Good. Want to get pizza and watch crappy action movies.” This, at least, was something they were always good at together. 

“Oh God yes!” Clint agreed reverently. They spent the rest of the evening companionably.

Clint went to bed that night and stared up at the ceiling. He didn’t know if he could do this. Put his faith in someone else completely. Let them take care of him when he’d been taking care of himself since he was a child. He wanted it badly, and that scared him almost as much as the possibility of having to do it.

…

Sleep didn’t come easy and he woke up screaming as his father, Barney and Trickshot all beat him. He sat up panting and wrapped his arms around himself. The blinking light on the bedside table said it was three am. He groaned and felt the keen need for comfort. He wondered if it was too early to start their game.

Clint found himself slipping into a child’s mind-set regardless and clutched a pillow to his chest. His parents had hated him waking them in the night. But maybe, a little voice whispered in his head, just maybe Daddy will be different.

He slid out of the bed and padded to the door. He hesitated in the dark listening to Daddy’s even breathing through his door. He bit his lip and knocked, the breathing was replaced with the sniffling of someone just waking and Clint’s gut clenched.

“Clint?” The voice called, seemingly worried.

“Daddy.” Clint whimpered, pushing the door open. Phil looked confused for a moment, but then his whole face softened, “What’s wrong sweetheart?”

He climbed out of bed and came to stand in front of Clint, “Had a nightmare,” Clint mumbled, tears welling in his eyes. He tensed up, fearing what Daddy would do; this was usually when the hitting started.

He flinched as Daddy reached towards him, but melted into the touch as he was pulled into a hug, “Oh sweetheart, it’s okay, it was just a dream.”

Clint’s control over his tears broke and he let out a sob, clutching to the man in front of him. “Shh baby, you’re okay. C’mon, come sit on my bed.”

Daddy led Clint to the edge of the bed and pulled him into his lap, tucking his head under his chin. Clint clutched at Daddy’s worn rangers shirt and soaked it with tears as Phil rocked him gently and rubbed soothing circles into his back. “You okay now?” Daddy asked kindly, pulling back to look at his face once Clint had calmed down a little.

Clint nodded and sniffled, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“That’s okay Baby Boy.” Phil responded, wiping his face with a tissue he’d retrieved from somewhere, “I’m here for you whenever you need. Do you want to talk about it?” Clint shook his head, “Alright sweetheart, stay here for me, I’ll be right back.” Phil shifted him so Clint was sat in the middle of the bed and left the room.

Clint chewed on his lip and picked at the comforter, his eyes fixed on the door where his Daddy had disappeared. Phil came back with a glass of water and held it out to Clint, “Drink some of this for me baby, careful, can you hold it by yourself?” Clint nodded, but the glass began to tip as Phil let go so he caught it again. “Here, let me help you.” Phil suggested, cupping the back of his head and helping him to tip the glass to his lips.

Clint managed about half the glass before Phil put it back on the night stand, “Good Boy. Do you think we can go back to sleep now?”

“Yes Daddy.” Clint said, a little reluctantly.

“Do you want to stay in here with me, or go back to your own room?” Clint’s eyes lit up with a guarded hope, “You mean you don’t mind Daddy?”

“Of course not baby. I love any excuse to spend time with you.” Clint grinned and wriggled beneath the covers. Phil smiled at him indulgently before switching off the light and clambering into bed beside him. Clint snuggled up to Phil, resting his head on his chest. Phil smiled and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“’night Daddy.”

“Goodnight Baby Boy.” They settled down to sleep. That was not how I expected our first scene to go, Phil mused to himself. He wasn’t sure if Clint had been testing him, or all their talk that evening had pushed him into that mind-set, but it seemed to go well regardless, so Phil would take it. 

…

When he woke in the morning Clint was gone. Phil frowned and padded around the house, giving a cursory glance into each apparently empty room. He frowned, had Clint left? It seemed unlikely, his go bag was still here. And judging by its contents Clint was still wearing only his sweats.

On a whim he started opening cupboards and calling his name. When he eventually found the still little Clint, he was a quivering ball in the guest room closet.

“Hey sweetheart, what are you doing in here?” Phil asked gently, crouching down to his height.

Clint peered at him over the tops of his knees. “Please don’t hurt me Daddy. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up and then sleep in your bed, I just gotted frightened.”

“Hey, I’m not going to hurt you Clint. I promise you I will never hit you, okay? And you didn’t do anything wrong, I told you it was okay last night, didn’t I?” Phil really hated Harold Barton.

Clint gave him a hesitant nod. “Do you want to come downstairs and have some breakfast?” Phil held a hand out to him, Clint stared at it for a moment before unfurling himself and crawling to him. Phil gave him a hug before taking his hand and tugging him to his feet.

Clint teetered for a moment before stabilizing and stuffing his thumb in his mouth. From this, and the inability to hold a glass properly Phil guessed he was playing around two years old. He took a moment to fleetingly wonder if he was toilet trained. There were a few supplies he would need to pick up if they continued this.

He led Clint downstairs step by step, teaching him to hold the banister as they went. “Good Boy.” He praised the achievement of reaching the bottom enthusiastically and little Clint’s face lit up. Phil’s heart melted just a little at the sight.

He sat the boy in a kitchen chair and quickly served up some pancakes. Clint stared at his cutlery like it was foreign to him. He picked up the fork and stabbed through the stack, picking the whole thing off the plate to nibble at.

Phil chuckled, “Here, let me help you.” He dragged his chair closer to Clint and took his fork from him, swiftly cutting his food into edible sized bites. Clint smiled happily as he was handed back the fork and stuffed several bites into his mouth at once. Phil chuckled again, “Slow down baby or you’ll choke yourself.” Clint pouted but did as he was told.

“Have you had enough?” Phil asked once Clint had cleared his plate.

Clint nodded, “thank you Daddy.”

“You’re very welcome baby boy.” Phil responded warmly, “Let’s wash that sticky stuff from your face and hands shall we?”

Clint nodded and allowed Phil to hold his hands under the sink, rubbing soap over them and his mouth before rinsing them off.

“What we gonna do now Daddy?” Clint asked, looking up at him with big eyes.

“What would you like to do baby?” Phil asked and Clint’s eyes widened.

“I get to pick?”

“Of course baby.”

“Do we have crayons Daddy?”

“Sure we do baby, you want to draw some pictures?” Clint nodded enthusiastically. “Okay, why don’t you go sit on the couch and I’ll see if I can find them.”

“Okay Daddy.” Clint gave him the quickest of hugs and darted out of the room. Phil smiled as he watched him go, this seemed to be working, at least a little. He’d have to debrief adult Clint later to be sure, but he felt quiet confidence in what they were doing.

He set Clint up on the floor with some cushions and his crayons, then sat on the sofa to get a start on some paperwork, still keeping an eye on the little boy.

About half an hour later he was engrossed in a report explaining why, exactly, he considered agent Monroe a dim-witted idiot whose clearance should be reduced to Level 2 at the most when he heard Clint gasp.

He looked up to see Clint staring at himself in horror. “Clint?” he asked carefully.

The boy’s terrified eyes locked with his own and then he was on his feet and running for the stairs. Phil gave him a few seconds to disappear, now knowing where he was likely to hide before he stood and followed, wondering what had caused Clint to run this time. 

Sure enough he found the little boy cowering in the same cupboard, sucking his thumb to soothe himself and clutching his legs to his chest.

“Hey there baby boy. You gonna tell me what’s wrong?” Clint shook his head, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “No? Why not? That doesn’t sound like the Clint I know. My little boy will tell me anything,” Phil said, trying to goad him into speaking.

“Don’t want to make you mad,” Clint mumbled around his thumb.

“Oh baby, I won’t be mad, I promise. Please tell me what’s wrong, I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me.”

Clint stared at him searchingly for a moment before uncurling his leg and looking at his own crotch, “Had an accident.”

“Oh. That’s okay baby, accidents happen.”

“But I ruined my clothes.” Clint argued.

“They can be washed sweetheart, and so can you.”

“You’re a strange Daddy,” Clint said with a frown, then winced at his own choice of words as if expecting to be reprimanded. Or worse.

Phil huffed a laugh, “I’ll take that as a complement. Why don’t you come out so I can clean you up, huh?”

Clint only hesitated for a moment before crawling out to Phil. He let him pull his soiled clothes away and clean him up without fussing. “Now, I think it’s time for a nap, don’t you baby?” Clint nodded and allowed himself to be tucked into bed. Phil read to him until he drifted to sleep and Phil whispered a request to speak to adult Clint when he woke up again.

…

Phil was just setting lunch on the table when Clint came into the kitchen rubbing his eyes. “Hey, how’re you feeling?” Phil asked handing him a cup of coffee and taking his own seat.

“Weird.” Clint replied, sipping absently at his drink. Then his cheeks turned a brilliant shade of red, “Oh God, did I really wet myself in your living room?”

“Yes.” Clint groaned and buried his face in his hands.

“I am so sorry sir.”

“It’s okay Clint. Accidents happen, and you were little. Maybe not potty trained at all, do you know how old you were?”

“Two-ish, I think.” Clint mumbled, his cheeks still pink.

Phil nodded, “That’s what I thought as well. What did you think about it as an overall experience?”

Clint thought about it for a second. “It was weird. Like, last night when I had that nightmare I woke up as me. But in those moments I always crave company, I’m always more vulnerable, wanting someone to comfort me, you know. My brain just turned me into a two year old, without even thinking about it. And I wasn’t self-conscious at all, almost as if I wasn’t me me at all. That- that scares me. I don’t think I like giving up control like that. But then you took really good care of me, even though I woke you up at three in the morning. Sorry about that by the way.”

“It’s okay Clint, I told you this morning. You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m here to be what you need, be it comfort after a nightmare or back up in the field. And I completely understand that you find it scary, you’ve never given up control like that, just let someone else take care of you. I suspect that was true even when you were two.” Clint nodded slightly, “The question is, are you willing to continue doing this? Can you trust me to be what you need?”

“I can try.” Clint answered honestly.

“That’s all I ask. The minute you feel uncomfortable or unsafe this stops. We’ll talk and come up with a new way to do this, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Good. Then I have to ask, how do you feel about props.”

“Props?” Clint asked, confused.

Phil nodded, “The right kind of clothing can help you to get into the right mind-set. I was thinking of getting a sippy cup, you couldn’t seem to hold a cup by yourself. Possibly a pacifier too as you kept sucking your thumb.”

Clint nodded, “I guess I could live with those.”

“What about diapers?” Phil asked.

Clint blushed, “I-no-I mean, I can’t, I-”

“You wet yourself today Clint. It might just be a freak thing that happened, or it could be the age you’re slipping into, in which case it might happen again. I don’t mind cleaning you up if you have an accident, but when you were little you got scared and I don’t want that to happen again. This is about us building trust. I’m not going to force you into it. But I need you to know it’s nothing to be embarrassed about and no one else will ever know.”

“What about Fury?”

“He only knows the scenario, not the details. I will not write a report on this, I promise you.”

Clint blew out a long breath. “Okay, get whatever you feel I need. I’ll safe word out if it makes me uncomfortable.”

“Good.”

Clint nodded, “What’s happening for the rest of the day?”

“You can do whatever you like Clint, you’re welcome to my TV and anything in the fridge. You can go out and do something, go shoot your bow. Whatever you need to do. I would appreciate it if you came back for dinner though, so we can chat some more.”

Clint nodded, “Sure, I should go pick up some more clothes if I’m staying here for a while.”  
“Good idea.” Phil smiled.

…

Clint ended up in the range at Shield, shredding targets with brutal efficiency. He couldn’t understand his own feelings. He felt more at peace with himself than he had in a long time, yet anxiety was rippling through him in waves.

He didn’t want to give up control. But he had no choice. If he wanted to stay, he had to learn to trust again. Besides, it had been… nice, to sit back and let someone else take care of everything for him. 

By the time he got back to Coulson’s house there were piles of shopping bags filled with baby things on his bed. Clothes mostly, but pacifiers, diapers, a few books and toys, a sippy cup and a very soft blanket, he ran his finger over the blanket and felt tears well up a little.

“Sorry if it’s too much, I went a little over board with the Shield credit card.” Phil said, coming up behind him.

Clint spun and wrapped himself around his handler in a tight hug. “Thank you. No one has ever bought me things like this before.”

Phil recovered from the shock and wrapped his arms around Clint. “You’re welcome. Besides, you deserve to be spoiled.” Clint scoffed at that, “You do Clint.” Phil insisted.

“Yeah, sure.” Clint agreed, wiping at his eyes, “Can we put this stuff away so I have a place to actually sleep?”

“Sure. Put it wherever you like. It’s your stuff. Consider this room yours too. Although, you are more than welcome to go to your quarters if you’re happier there.”

“Thank you sir- Coulson-”

“Phil.” He corrected, “At least at home anyway.”

Clint smiled warmly, “Well, thank you, for all of this. I really can’t tell you how much it means to me.”

“You’re welcome.” Phil placed a hand on his shoulder briefly, “Anyway, I’m going to cook dinner, make yourself comfortable and come down when you’re ready.”

Clint took his time going through his presents. Running his fingers over the soft fabric as he put them away in his closet, alongside his adult clothing. He also placed the diapers in the bottom along with a bag full of toys. He spread the blanket across the foot of the bed and placed the plush hawk he’d found on top of it.

With a satisfied look around the room- his room- he smiled, picked up the cup and went downstairs to put it in the kitchen cupboard.

“You done?” Phil asked, smiling up at him.

“Yeah, thanks.” Clint said pulling out a chair to watch Phil stirring chili on the stove. “Why are you doing this for me? This is more than just asset- handler training.”

Phil turned around to look at him. “I care about you Clint, I want to see you do well with SHIELD, yes, but I want you to be happy too. I don’t want to watch you die because you did something reckless.”

Clint raised his eyebrows, “No one cares about me, no one ever has.”  
“Well I do.”

“Why?”

Phil sighed and sat down opposite him. “Because you are a good man. Anyone lesser than you could’ve gone through your life and come out bitter and twisted and angry, wanting to get revenge. But you didn’t, you’re stronger than that, you came out of it wanting to help people. Wanting to stop it happening to anyone else. You’re smart and funny and kind, an amazing shot and strategist. You’re one of the best agents we have. One of the best people I know.”

“M not.” Clint mumbled, cheeks red as he stared at his hands on the table, twisting his hands together.

Phil reached over to rest his hand on top, “You are. And one day, you’ll see it.”

“Sure, whatever.” Clint agreed quickly, pulling away, “So when are we next doing this?”

“That’s up to you. We can carry on this evening, or wait until tomorrow.”

“Can we leave it till the morning again? I’ll wake up little.”

“Sure, do you want to do the whole day or just the start of it?”

Clint thought for a moment, “I want to try the whole day but it might get too much and I’ll have to come back.”

“That’s fine, we can work around that.” Clint nodded. They spent the rest of the evening in a similar fashion to the last one. Eating and shouting abuse at the terrible plot holes in movies. Clint was beginning to think he could get used to this, domesticity, with Coulson.

…

Phil knocked on Clint’s door the next morning and pushed it open slightly, “Clint?” the only response was a groan. Phil smiled and pushed the door open. Clint was a burrito in his quilt, only his eyes peering up out of it. “Good morning baby, how’d you sleep?”

“Kay.” He responded, struggling to get up and reaching for Phil, “Snuggles Daddy!”

Phil chuckled and obliged, sitting beside him and pulling him into his lap. Clint buried his face into Phil’s dressing gown and sighed as Phil wrapped him in his arms. After a long moment Phil asked, “Are you ready to get up?”

“Need potty Daddy.” He whispered, like it was a secret.

“Okay, c’mon then sweetheart.” Phil stood up and took Clint’s hand, leading him to the bathroom. “Do you need help?” Clint nodded, so Phil helped him to take down his pants and sit on the toilet then waited patiently for him to finish. He helped him wash his hands and brush his teeth, then took his own turn in the bathroom, asking Clint to wait for him in his bedroom.

Clint was sat on the bed playing with the toy eagle when Phil came back in, “Do you like your new toy Clint?”

The boy grinned, “Yes Daddy, he’s a bird, he can fly really really high!”

“I can see that, does he have a name?”

Clint seemed to think about that for a moment, looking between the bird and Phil, “He’s called Nick. Cuz he only has one eye, look.”

Phil chuckled at the name as the toy was shoved at him, “That’s a very good name. I’m sorry, I didn’t realise he only had one eye.”

“That’s okay, I can still play. Anyway it’s not fair to leave broken toys out, just cuz people didn’t look after them properly.”

Phil blinked at that and wondered if Clint had watched Toy Story growing up, “no, you’re absolutely right baby.” Clint beamed at that. “Shall we get you dressed so we can go get some breakfast?”

“Yes Daddy.” Phil moved to the cupboard and took out some footie pyjamas, thinking it didn’t really matter what he wore, they weren’t going anywhere. When he put the diaper on the bed however Clint whined. “I don’t need a diaper Daddy, I’m a big boy, I know how to use the potty!”

“I know you do sweetheart, but you had an accident yesterday, remember?”

Panic spread across Clint’s face, “I said sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Shh,” Phil soothed, “I know baby, it was an accident and you couldn’t help it. But we’re just going to use diapers as a precaution okay, you can still use the potty, but if you forget, it won’t matter, okay?”

Clint seemed to think about it for a moment before he nodded, “I guess so.”

“Good boy.” Phil praised, “Lie down for me.” Clint did so, and stuck his thumb in his mouth as Phil removed his trousers and carefully diapered him. Clint wrinkled his nose at the extra padding but didn’t fuss as he allowed Phil to dress him in his purple fleecy pj’s.

“Do you want your pacifier?” Phil asked, finally noticing Clint’s thumb had only come out of his mouth to put his arm through his sleeve. “Yes please Daddy.”

Phil handed it to him and he stuck it in his mouth, sucking happily. “There, all dressed.” Phil said, pressing a kiss to his forehead. Clint smiled and fisted his had in Phil’s dressing gown again to keep him close. Phil chuckled, “You’re very cuddly today.”

“Sorry.” Clint began to pull away but Phil held him tight.

“It’s not a bad thing sweetheart, I love cuddling with you.” Clint melted against him.

They stayed that way for a long moment until Clint’s stomach rumbled, “Are you hungry baby?” 

Clint nodded into his shirt, “Yes Daddy.”

“C’mon then, let’s go eat.”

Clint held onto his hand again as they went down the stairs, and allowed himself to be helped to sit down in his chair. “What would you like for breakfast? I have cereal, porridge, waffles…” Phil listed off as he switched the coffee pot on and filled Clint’s sippy cup with apple juice. Clint latched on immediately as it was placed in front of him, placing his pacifier on the table beside Nick-the-hawk.

“Porich.” Clint said, “please.”

Phil set the bowl in front of him and ran a hand through his hair. “Careful with it baby, it’s hot. Blow on the spoon before you put it in your mouth, okay?”

“Yes Daddy,” Clint agreed, picking up the spoon and blowing rasberries at the food.

“Like this Clint, watch me.” Phil said, spooning some of his own and blowing gently before placing it in his mouth. Clint watched with piercing blue eyes before following the movement, “That’s it, good boy.” Clint beamed.

“What do you want to do today Clint?”

“Can we make an eye patch for Nick?” Clint asked excitedly, pointing at the bird. Phil couldn’t help it, he laughed, wishing that he hadn’t promised not to tell Fury details.

“Of course, if that’s what you want to do. Would you like to play with some of your new toys too? Or we could watch some cartoons.”

“Yeah!” Clint agreed happily.

… 

After breakfast Clint coloured a bright purple eyepatch with a skull and cross bones and waited patiently for Phil to cut it out and tie it to his hawks head. He laughed exuberantly when it was done, “Thank you Daddy!”

“You’re welcome Baby,” Phil responded, running a hand through his hair as the boy clutched the toy to his chest. His phone started buzzing then, “Why don’t you go fetch some toys from your room while I answer my phone?”

“Okay Daddy.” Phil watched as Clint toddled out of the room with a smile as he answered the phone, “Coulson.”

“Hey Coulson, how’s it going?” Fury asked.

“Better than I expected.” Phil responded honestly.

Fury scoffed, “You mean he didn’t punch you in the face for the suggestion?”

“No. He accepted the whole concept pretty easily actually.”

“So he’s playing along?”

“One hundred percent.” 

“Huh. So, I’m curious, what is Little Clint Barton like?”

“Adorable, to be honest.” Phil responded and Fury laughed, “He’s shy, keeps hiding in the cupboards when he thinks he’s upset me.”

“Upset you how?”

“He woke me up at three in the morning after a nightmare, among other things. He seemed to think I was going to beat him for it. I swear if Harold Barton wasn’t dead I would kill him on principle.”

“Wouldn’t we all.” Fury agreed darkly. It was then that Phil realised his best friend actually cared about Barton, as more than an asset. It was probably why he assigned the archer to Phil in the first place. “So does he trust you?”

“Not yet, but he will.”

“Daddy?” Clint poked his head around the door.

“Hold on a sec sir,” Phil said, pulling the phone away from his ear and giving Clint his full attention, “Yes sweetheart?”

“Can I have some more juice?”

“Of course, but could you just wait a few minutes ‘til I’ve finished my phone call?” Clint’s breath caught in his throat and his eyes widened when he realised he’d interrupted. He gave a jerky nod and backed away. Phil supressed a sigh, resigning himself to searching through the cupboards again.

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine. Do you think I could meet him? It would be nice to meet a version of Barton that isn’t putting up that asshole bravado.”

Phil snorted, “What, do you want to be Uncle Nick?”

Fury laughed, “Sure, why not.”

“I’ll ask him, but I honestly think he’ll say no.”

“Fair enough.”

“Is that all, I have to go make sure he’s not hiding in the fireplace or something.”

“Sure, check in Coulson.”

“I will.”

Phil hung up, filled Clint’s cup, picked up his pacifier that he’d left on the table and went to find his charge. He considered it progress that he found Clint hiding beneath his new blanket on the bed, rather than in his cupboard.

“Hey baby boy.” He greeted the quivering blanket, “I got your juice.” He reached out to stroke Clint’s back through the fabric. He flinched at the touch but relaxed into it as Phil rubbed soothing circles into his back. “I’m not mad at you baby.” Phil said kindly.

“Are you sure?” A tiny voice asked.

“Of course. I won’t ever lie to you Clint. You were thirsty, so you asked me for what you needed. There’s nothing wrong with that. And you waited patiently when I asked.” Phil soothed kindly.

Slowly Clint uncurled from the ball, though he kept a tight hold of the blanket around himself. “There’s my boy.” Phil smiled, reaching out to wipe the tears away with the pad of his thumb, “Here.” Phil handed him his sippy cup. Clint accepted it tentatively. He took a few sips, then, upon realising how thirsty he was, tipped it back and guzzled the rest.

“Better?”

“’m sorry Daddy.” Liquid eyes stared up at him.

“Whatever for?”

“In-intr-” He huffed, “talking when you was on the phone. And for hiding from you.”

“It’s okay baby. You were hiding to feel safe. I don’t mind you doing that as long as you don’t leave the house or hurt yourself, okay.”

“Okay Daddy.”

“Good Boy.” Phil pulled him into a hug. “Want this?” He held out the abandoned pacifier and Clint took it gratefully. 

“Thank you Daddy.”

“You’re welcome baby. Do you want to go play now?”

“Yeah,” Clint said, still subdued, “Will you play with me?”

“Of course.” Clint’s face brightened.

…

Phil led him downstairs and inspected the toys Clint had picked. There were plastic dinosaurs and soldiers, a racing car, his hawk and a pack of cards.

“What game do you want to play?” Phil asked, sitting on the floor and leaning against the sofa.

“Army men ‘gainst dinosaurs.” Clint said, starting to stand the toys up.

“Ah, okay.” Phil helped him to set the toys up, “Which do you want to be?”

“Soldiers.” Clint replied, picking one up and making shooting noises, then knocking the first dinosaur over with the tip of his finger.

Phil laughed and responded with a “RAWR!” moving the t-rex to stand on one of the soldiers. They played for several minutes, ‘killing’ each other’s toys whilst making the appropriate soundtrack with their voices. Clint’s team won of course.

“Oh no.” Phil cried, “You killed all my dinosaurs!”

Clint giggled, “Yay! I win, I win!”

“No fair!” Phil reached out to tickle him, he squirmed and huffed a laugh so Phil kept doing it until he was giggling in a high pitch and wheezing for breath. “No Daddy, stop, stop!”

“Who won?” Phil asked jokingly.

“You did Daddy, ahh, no, I give, stop, stop!” Clint’s high pealed laugh was music to Phil’s ears. He stopped tickling and pulled Clint against him, allowing him to rest his head on his chest.

When their breathing calmed down the sound of Clint’s tummy rumbling became apparent. Phil chuckled, “Are you hungry again baby?”

“Yes Daddy.”

“Want to help me make lunch?”

“Yeah!” He agreed enthusiastically.

Phil set him to work buttering bread while he put together the rest of the ingredients for their sandwiches. “Crusts on or off?” He asked as he cut them into triangles.

“Off please Daddy.”

The rest of the day passed pleasantly, after lunch Phil put Clint to bed for a nap, reading to him until he fell asleep. He then changed his diaper quickly and efficiently without even pulling faces. They did a jigsaw together, cuddled on the sofa watching Disney’s Robin Hood, then Clint drew a picture of ‘me and daddy’ whilst Phil cooked spaghetti for dinner. He stuck it to the fridge with a magnet once it was finished.

They had bath time complete with bubble bath and a rubber ducky while Phil washed him. Finally Phil tucked Clint into bed with another bedtime story.

As Phil was leaving the room Clint whispered, “Love you Daddy.” And Phil felt a warmth spread through him such as nothing he’d ever felt before.

“I love you too Clint. Sweet dreams baby boy.” And he couldn’t resist brushing one last kiss to his forehead.

…

After this they fell into a rhythm. Every other day they would return to SHIELD, Phil to attend meetings and file paperwork, Clint to keep up with his training so that he would remain mission ready. The rest of the time they would go back to Phil’s small house where Clint would act like a two year old and allow himself to be pampered.

Though he found it hard to admit, even in the privacy of his own head, Clint liked the way Phil took care of him. Liked having someone to rely on. With Phil he found it very difficult to remember why he kept people at arm’s length. As time went by he stopped flinching when Phil reached out to touch him and, though it took a little longer, stopped hiding when he thought he’d upset Phil. Despite his best efforts Clint knew he was beginning to trust the man he’d already respected far more than anyone he’d ever known. The only thing really left to do was start pushing boundaries to see how Phil would react. Only Clint didn’t want to make him angry. And Clint didn’t want this to stop.

He decided to start small.

“Can you put your toys away please Clint, it’s almost time for bed.” Phil asked, poking his head into the living room from the kitchen, where he’d been talking to Fury.

Clint looked at his cars, then back to his Daddy and decided he’d rather keep playing, “No.” he said, going back to his game.

“Clint, it’s late, it’s time to put our toys away.” Phil’s voice got a little sterner, but Clint ignored him. Phil sighed and spoke into the phone again, “I’m so sorry Nick, can I call you back?”

Nick chuckled, “Trouble in paradise?”

“Looks like, give me ten minutes to put him to bed?”

“Sure sure,” Fury agreed, disconnecting the call.

“Alright Mister, this is the last time I’m going to ask, put your toys away so we can get ready for bed.” Phil said in his no-nonsense voice number three, hands on his hips.

“But I don’t wanna!” Clint whined, rolling onto his back to stare up at Phil.

“Tough luck. I’m going to count to three and if those toys aren’t in that toy chest when I reach the end you are going to bed without story time.”

Clint’s eyes widened. But, deciding to call his bluff to see if that’s all that would really happen, he stayed put. “One…” Phil held up his index finger and Clint stared back defiantly. “Two…” Clint bit his lip and didn’t move. Phil waited for a long moment before saying, “Three.”

Clint closed his eyes and tensed up. He was fairly sure Daddy wouldn’t hurt him, but Clint hadn’t actively defied him before.

A hand closed around his arm and tugged. Clint’s eyes flew open to see his cross Daddy glaring at him, “Get up, now.” Clint scrambled to obey, his heart pounding in his chest, blood rushing in his ears as he was marched upstairs.

Daddy stripped him quickly but somehow still gently, changing him into a clean diaper and pyjamas. Clint remained silent, panicking that he’d upset Daddy.

Phil pulled back the covers. “Lie down Clint.” Clint flinched, but did as he was told. Phil tucked him in, “Goodnight Clint.” He kissed him on the forehead and turned to leave.

“Daddy!” Clint called, fear clawing at him.

Phil sighed and turned around, his eyes softening a little, “You’ve got to learn to do what I say sweetheart. Not putting your toys away doesn’t hurt anyone. But ignoring me out in the real world could be really dangerous, understand?”

Clint supressed the tears that were welling in his eyes and nodded.

“Good, get some sleep Clint, you can put your things away in the morning.” Daddy left and pulled the door to, going back downstairs to lock up and call Nick back. Clint stared at his blank ceiling, guilt twisting in his guts. He didn’t like disappointing Daddy.

He lay there for a long time, even after Daddy had gone to bed before sighing and accepting he wasn’t going to sleep without a story and with the feelings of guilt twisting up inside of him. Phil had been spoiling him.

Sighing, he clambered out of bed and, clutching his hawk, crept into his Daddy’s room. Phil was fast asleep and Clint bit his lip, wondering if he should leave. But the pull to be close to his Daddy had him padding silently across the room and sliding into the sheets.

Daddy blinked awake and looked at him in confusion for a minute. Clint froze and waited apprehensively to see if he’d be thrown out. But Daddy just opened his arms and pulled Clint against his chest, pressing a kiss to his forehead before dozing off again. Clint sighed in relief and relaxed into his arms. Falling asleep easily now, knowing his daddy must still love him if he was cuddling.

…

Clint woke in the morning still feeling little, despite the fact he was supposed to go into SHIELD today. He felt warm and comfortable in Daddy’s arms and wanted to do something to make up for being a brat yesterday.

He slipped from the bed and padded downstairs. He packed away all his toys that were in the middle of the floor then went into the kitchen.

He stared at the coffee machine for a long moment, maybe he could make his Daddy breakfast. He pressed a few buttons on the machine and it beeped at him but didn’t do anything. Frowning, he decided he’d leave coffee and make food first. He opened the cupboards until he found bread and put two slices into the toaster. As he was doing that the coffee machine beeped again and liquid started pouring onto the counter, spilling over the edge onto the floor.

“Oh no!” Clint yelled, grabbing a tea towel and trying to mop it up, but the hot liquid soaked through the towel burning his hands. Clint screamed and jerked away, his foot slipping in the mess on the floor, propelling him onto his backside in the scorching liquid.

Phil chose that moment to walk through the door, “Clint, what-”

Clint looked up at him, “Daddy!” He wailed, tears bursting from his eyes.

Phil’s face softened from the action ready, intruder alert expression he had been wearing, “Oh, come here sweetheart.” He pulled Clint to his feet and quickly stripped him of his sodden pyjamas, leaving him in nothing but his diaper and red scorch marks. He led him up to the bathroom and turned the shower on cold.

“Stand in here for me baby,” He helped the still sobbing Clint into the bath and ran cool water over his reddened skin. The sobbing subsided, “Hey, are you okay?”

“Ye-s, I,” sniff, “I’m s-sorry Daddy.”

“Whatever for?”

“I was naughty last night and I tried to make breakfast to ap-ap-poligize but I ruined it.”  
Clint’s face was heartbreakingly dejected. “Oh sweetheart.” Phil put down the shower nozzle and pulled Clint into his arms, “It’s okay, I forgive you. And I saw that you tidied your toys away this morning. Breakfast was a really sweet idea baby, but maybe let me handle the hot things from now on, huh?”

Clint sniffled and clung, “Okay Daddy.”

“Good Boy.” Phil kissed his forehead, “C’mon, let’s get you dressed.” He led Clint into the bedroom and dressed him in soft clothes that wouldn’t rub against his burns. Then he tucked him onto the couch under his blanket with Nick and cartoons on the TV before going into the kitchen to clear the mess up.

He filled Clint’s sippy cup up once there was a fresh pot of coffee brewing and more bread in the toaster and went back into the living room. “Here baby.” Phil crouched down in front of Clint and handed him his juice.

“Thank you Daddy,” Clint said, cradling the cup in both hands as he took a sip. Phil smiled and ran his hands through Clint’s hair, he leaned into the touch, his eyes flickering shut. “Do you have to go to work today Daddy?” Clint asked, a wheedling note to the tone.

“Not if you don’t want me to baby, but if we stay here I’ll have to go in tomorrow, okay?”

Clint breathed out in relief and smiled, “okay.”

“Good Boy.” Phil kissed him on the forehead and went to collect their breakfast. Clint spent the rest of that day cuddled up in Phil’s arms and watching Disney movies.

When it came time to go to bed Clint went willingly and begged for his Daddy to stay until he fell asleep. Phil read three chapters of The Hobbit in his soothing, calm voice until Clint drifted off.

…

Just under a month after they started this they went back on duty. They ran as a smoother team than ever. Plans went off without a hitch, Clint trusting Phil with his plans when they had to change on the fly.

Clint moved back into his quarters and quietly pined for the days he could sit back on the couch with Phil watching bad action movies and swearing at the TV. He pined for the days when he could wear pyjamas all day and let himself be taken care of. But he didn’t say anything. Coulson looked after him enough at work; he shouldn’t have to let Clint invade his home too. He should be allowed time off from work, from Clint.

He lasted three months pining for something he’d never known he needed. Shooting his bow still gave him peace, but it was the peace of knowing he was prepared, knowing he could hold his own in a fight. It wasn’t the same as knowing someone had your back; that someone would take care of you no matter what condition you were in. 

Clint resented himself slightly for the way he had come to rely on Coulson, but was unable to admit it to the man.

They were on a mission in India. It was going perfectly to plan, until it wasn’t. Clint was kidnapped from his perch. He fought his way back out again before Coulson even knew he was missing. He had been on radio silence between hourly check-ins, but still, it shook him up.

“Report, Agent.” Coulson said, sitting behind his desk. It was how they always started debrief. Clint sat in his corner of the sofa, hugging his knees to his chest.

“Was on my perch waiting for the target to show. Three goons came up onto the roof. I tried to fight but they had me pinned before I could do much and they punched me in the side of the head, breaking my com before I could alert you. They took me back to a bunker and tied me to a chair- without checking me for weapons. An interrogator came in, who happened to be the target, and started demanding who I worked for. I stalled while I cut my bonds and slit his throat with my switch blade. Then I made my way out of the bunker, dispatching the guards as I went, but not before one of them got a lucky shot in.” He indicated the bandaged flesh wound in his arm, “I made sure no one was following me and retreated back to the hotel.”

Coulson wrote down everything he said, poking him for details as he went until he felt he had the whole story recorded. Clint answered his questions in a dead voice, staring at the opposite wall until finally Coulson put the pen down.

“Barton- Clint, are you alright?” He asked in that caring, fatherly voice.

Clint whined, tears springing in his eyes. He’d missed that voice. “Daddy.” He whispered, hugging his knees tighter.

Phil inhaled sharply and got to his feet, quickly coming to sit beside Clint and pull him into his arms. “Shh baby boy, it’s okay, I’ve got you,” he said softly and Clint let the tears flow over, clutching at Phil’s jacket and burying his face in his neck. “It’s okay sweetheart, you’re okay.” Phil kept up the litany of endearments as he allowed Clint to soak his shirt.

“I’m s-sorry.” Clint sobbed, his voice more controlled, more adult.

“It’s okay Clint, you’re not the first agent to cry on me,” Phil said, wry humour twisting the corner of his mouth.

Clint shook his head, “Not that.” Phil waited patiently for Clint to say more. “I-for calling you Daddy at work. For needing that. I shouldn’t need anyone to take care of me. But I- I miss it, I miss you. And that mission has kinda screwed me up. I don’t know why. I’ve been kidnapped and tortured before, but I never reacted like this, they didn’t even have me for that long!” Clint pulled away and wiped at his tear stained face.

“I miss you too Clint. The house has been so quiet without you and my baby boy to keep me company. I miss taking care of you.”

“Why? Isn’t it a burden, to be responsible for me all the time?” Clint was genuinely confused.

“No. It brings me a sort of peace. To know that someone I care about is being taken care of properly. I like caring for you, whatever age you act. I like being a father to you when I know you never really had one and I’m never really going to be one.”

“Why not?”

Phil quirked his lips, “I’m too old for kids. I don’t have a partner, or time to date. It would be irresponsible of me to adopt given how unpredictable our lives are.”

“You could take a desk job.” Clint joked, knowing just how much Phil really hated paperwork. They both laughed. “So what now?”

“Well, you could always come stay for a few days when we’re on downtime for father-son time. Or just come over every now and then for pizza and movies as friends.”

“You’d really do that, for me?”

“Yes. And besides, I’m doing it for me too. You’re my friend Clint, do you honestly think my other assets even know where I live?”

“Yes, they’re spies. They totally know where you live.”

“Fair point.” Phil chuckled, “But you’re the only one I’ve ever given a key to, or free reign over my fridge.”  
“Really?” Clint grinned. Phil nodded. “But don’t you have things you like to do when you’re not at work? Friends to go out with, family to visit?”

Phil laughed, “I only have three friends Clint- You, Fury and Hill. My family live in Portland and I see them every other Christmas or Easter depending on global catastrophes. I don’t really have much of a life outside of SHIELD.”

“Huh.” Clint said and they were silent for a moment, “So you really want me to visit, as adult or little me?”

“I really really do.” Phil replied sincerely.

“So can I come home with you for the weekend?” He asked shyly.

Phil beamed, “Of course you ca-” His face fell and Clint’s gut twisted. “You can come Clint, but I forgot, Fury is staying in the spare room this weekend whilst he’s got builders in his kitchen.”

Clint chewed on his lip. He really wanted to go with Phil, but didn’t know how he’d react to his boss as little Clint. “I don’t know.”

Phil smiled at him, “He did say he wanted to meet Little Clint, you know.”

Clint wrinkled his nose, “Really?”

“Yeah. He cares about you too Clint. I know he mostly just yells at you when you see him but he’d have fired you rather than send you to me if he didn’t care.”

“I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse.” Clint admitted and Phil snorted. “Okay, but I don’t know how I’ll react to him so you can’t leave me alone with him. At least not for long. And no way in hell is he changing me, or bathing me.”

“Of course not.” Phil soothed, “I’ll make sure he knows all the ground rules. You go pack your stuff, I’ll meet you back here at five.”

“Yes Sir.” Clint saluted him and marched off to his quarters.

…

It was strange sitting in the back seat with Coulson driving and Fury in the passenger seat. He felt like a little kid being driven home from school by his parents. By the twitch in Coulson’s lips, he was amused too.

“So, pizza for dinner?” Phil asked, trying to alleviate the awkwardness.

“Hell yes.” Fury growled.

“What kind?”

“Pineapple.” Clint chipped in.

“Pineapple does not go on pizza.” Fury stated.

“Why not?”

“It’s too healthy.” He deadpanned. Clint laughed at that.

“Well what do you want?”

“Meat feast.” He answered immediately.

“Hell no,” Clint protested, “That’s way too fatty.”

“Now, now children.” Phil interrupted, laughter in his voice, “We can get both.”

“Yay.” Clint cheered in sarcastic triumph.

When they got to the house Clint realised they’d hit a snag. There was only two bedrooms. Fury was staying in the nursery, so where was Clint supposed to sleep?

“Why don’t you put your stuff in my room Clint?” Phil answered the unspoken question, “Grab what you want to wear tomorrow from the guest room while you’re at it. You can share a bed with me or sleep on the sofa, whichever you prefer.”

“You sure you don’t mind?”

Phil smiled kindly, “We’ve shared a bed a hundred times on missions or while you’re little, Clint. It’s really not that different.”

“Okay, sure.” Clint shrugged, “Thanks Phil.”

Clint went upstairs and dropped the bag on ‘his’ side of the bed. They’d shared a bed that often that they had assigned sides. He tried not to think too hard about that. He padded into his room and browsed the wardrobe, taking out his favourite purple pyjamas, kids cartoon t-shirt and bright lounge pants as well as his pacifier and the diapers. He rescued his hawk and blanket from the bed and took them all into Phil’s room. He folded everything up on the chair and placed his hawk on the top.

Then, thinking better of it, he stripped and folded his own clothes, diapered himself and put on his pyjamas, then stuck his pacifier in his mouth and clutched Nick to his chest. He stood there for a moment, settling into his own skin and the routine of being in Daddy’s house again. Then he took a deep breath and went downstairs.

He could hear laughter coming from the kitchen and paused outside the door. He’d never met any of Daddy’s friends before, what if he was horrible?

Steeling himself he poked his head around the door and watched silently as his Daddy mixed drinks at the counter, laughing at what his friend, who was big and scary and sitting in Clint’s seat, was saying.

The door creaked open a little as Clint leaned on it and they both looked up at him. Clint froze like a deer in the headlights. Phil smiled warmly at Clint, “hey there baby boy.” Clint stared up at him with wide eyes, clutching Nick tightly to his chest. His Daddy walked to him and reached out to touch his arm, “I want you to come meet someone.” 

Clint let Phil take his hand and walk him slowly into the room. Clint hid behind his Daddy and peered around him. “Clint, this is your Uncle Nick. Nick, this is Clint.”

“Hello Clint.” Uncle Nick smiled, his voice more gentle than adult Clint would’ve believed possible. Clint waved shyly and hid back behind Phil. Both adults chuckled and Clint blushed.

“Would you like some juice baby?” Phil asked, stroking a hand through his hair. Clint nodded, “Go and sit down then, please.”

Clint gripped the back of Phil’s shirt tighter. “Nick won’t hurt you baby, it’s okay.”

Clint frowned, but allowed Phil to peel his fingers away and lead him to the chair. He put Nick-the-hawk on the table and started flapping his wings.

“Who’s this?” Nick asked. Phil chuckled from behind Clint. 

“His name is Nick.” Clint said, turning him around to show him.

Nick chuckled, “Did you name him after me?”

Clint nodded, “He only has one eye too.”

“I’m honoured,” Uncle Nick said wryly and Phil chuckled as he placed their drinks on the table and sat beside Clint.

“You should be, none of his other toys have names.”

Clint stuffed his drink into his mouth so he wouldn’t have to talk anymore. Phil pressed a kiss to the side of Clint’s head then started talking shop with Nick. Clint breathed a sigh of relief now the focus wasn’t on him.

Ten minutes later the doorbell rang, “That’ll be the pizza.” Phil said, starting to stand. Clint panicked and gripped at his Daddy’s shirt. “Clint, what-”

“I’ll get the pizza.” Nick said, standing up.

Phil nodded and crouched down so he was eye to eye with Clint. “What’s wrong sweetheart?”

“Don’t leave me.” Clint whispered, clutching at Phil.

“Oh baby boy, I was only going to the front door.” Phil said, pulling Clint into his arms.

“No.” Clint said, “Please Daddy, don’t leave me.”

“Never.” Phil promised, his hear clenching at the tears he could feel soaking into his shoulder, “I’ve got you baby boy, always.”

“I love you Daddy.” Clint whispered.

“I love you too Clint.” Phil pulled back and kissed the tears away from his cheeks, “And I’m not going anywhere, okay?” Clint nodded. “Good Boy.”

Once he was sure Clint was okay Phil got some plates out of the cupboard and set the table. Nick came back into the room with the pizza and placed it in the middle of the table. His sharp eye noticed Clint’s red eyes, but he only asked, “You okay buddy?” to which Clint nodded and they said nothing more of the matter.

They each started placing slices on their plates. Clint struggled to pick his up without it flopping every time he tried to take a bite.

“You want help baby?” Phil asked, when finally Clint huffed and dropped the slice on his plate. Glaring at it like it’d offended him. 

“Yes please Daddy.” Phil stuffed the rest of his own slice into his mouth then reached for Clint’s. He held it out to him, supporting the base with his fingers underneath so it wouldn’t flop.

“Here, it won’t flop now.”

Clint eyed it suspiciously but leant forward to take a bite anyway. His eyes lit up when he actually managed to take a bite and he made appreciative noises as he chewed. Phil smiled indulgently.

Fury watched the whole exchange speculatively, “Is he always like this?”

“Like what?” Phil asked, his attention on Clint.

“So- Clingy, needy.” Fury clarified.

Phil shrugged, “Sometimes. He doesn’t let himself need things, people, when he’s an adult. I think that all comes out when he’s little. But he’s not usually this shy, I mean, he was at first, but not anymore. I think he’s nervous around you.”

“Me? I haven’t done anything.”

“No, but you are a stranger, that makes him twitchy as an adult. Where do you think he learned that behaviour?”

“Huh.”

Clint ignored their conversation in favour of eating, trying to avoid biting Phil’s fingers when he reached the crusts.

…

After dinner they went into the living room. The adults sat on the sofa and Phil clicked the news on, which was boring. So Clint fetched some paper and crayons and spread out on the floor at Daddy’s feet.

“Do you need a bath tonight?” Daddy asked about an hour later. Clint shook his head, he’d showered before they came home. “Okay, half an hour, then its bedtime.”

“But Daddy,” Clint whined, “I’m not tired.”

“You will be.” Phil promised.

Clint pouted, Fury chuckled but Clint ignored him, “Will you read me a bedtime story?”

“Don’t I always?”

“No.” Clint groused.

“Okay, but, I only don’t when you’ve been naughty, and you’ve been a very good boy tonight, hasn’t he Uncle Nick?”

“Yes, I think so.”

Clint beamed.

…

“Why am I sleeping in your bed Daddy?” Clint asked as he tucked his soft blanket around him.

“Because Uncle Nick is in your bed.” Phil replied, sitting by Clint’s legs.

“Oh, why?”

“Because he is. Now, do you want me to read this or not?”

“Yes please.”

“Alright, settle down then.” Clint relaxed into the pillows, hugging Nick to his chest and sticking his thumb in his mouth. “Once upon a time…” Phil only got three pages in before Clint, exhausted from their last mission, was fast asleep. He smiled and kissed his boy on the forehead before pulling the door to and heading back downstairs to Nick.

“He alright?” Nick asked.

“Yeah, out like a light. I think that mission wore him out more than he’s letting on.”

“It still surprises me that he’s okay with this. I thought for sure he’d punch you when you suggested it, he’s got so many authority issues.”

“At the time I think he knew I was his last chance. I think deep down he recognized he needed something like this, though it took him months to admit it to himself, and a little longer to admit it to me. He doesn’t think he’s worth my time, can’t understand what I get out of looking after him this way.”

“I heard you earlier, telling him you loved him…” Nick raised an eyebrow.

“I love him as one of my closest friends. As my- son, I suppose.”

“Not in a ‘I want to sleep with you’ kind of way?”

Phil sighed, “You know I’m not interested in sex.” It was something they’d had many arguments over in the past- how can you not like sex? You just need to meet the right person. “And to be honest, I don’t think he is either.”

Fury scoffed at that, “Are you kidding, he flirts with anything that moves.”

“True. But have you ever known him to date, pick up a one night stand even?” Clint had been with SHIELD for three years, and they had been watching him for two before they recruited him. And he was young, he should have one hell of a libido.

“Huh, I guess not.”

“You’ve read his file as back to front as I have. You know what he’s been through.” Nick nodded at that, Clint had been raped repeatedly over his life, not only by his mentors, but by a few of his mercenary contractors and even a couple of marks he was taking on for SHIELD. It was one of the reasons the two seniors felt so protective of him. He was so young; he’d been through far too much in his short life. Phil could understand why he wouldn’t want that intimacy with someone he cared about. He wouldn’t want to risk those relationships with bad memories.

…

Clint woke up in a cold sweat, screaming, pulling his arms away from non-existent attackers. It took a few minutes to calm his breathing, clutching his knees to his chest. Then he realised that his diaper was wet through.

Trembling, he slipped to the floor and crawled out to the landing, then shuffled down the stairs on his bum. He stood and pushed the living room door open.

“So we were just- Clint? What are you doing up baby?” Phil asked, noticing him in the doorway.

Clint’s lip quivered and he shook where he stood, “Daddy!” he wailed, then threw himself into Phil’s lap and sobbed. 

“Woah, hey, it’s okay baby, what happened?”

“Bad men were tryin’ take me away.” He whimpered.

“Oh sweetheart,” Phil pulled him closer and rubbed soothing circles into his back, “It’s okay, it was just a dream. They can’t get you here.” He held him in his lap, rocking him until the sobbing stopped.

“You were gone Daddy. I woked up and you weren’t there anymore.”

“I know, I’m sorry, I thought I’d be back before you woke up.”

Clint sniffed, “S’not your fault.” They sat quietly for a moment, then Clint whispered, “Daddy, ‘m all wet.”

“Okay sweetheart.” Phil kissed his forehead, “I’m going to fetch you some clean pyjamas, will you be alright here with Uncle Nick?”

“Uh-huh.” Clint nodded.

“Good Boy,” Phil said, shifting Clint onto the seat beside him and standing up. Clint crawled into Nick’s lap and buried his face into his shoulder, not caring in that moment that he was basically a stranger. Nick froze for a moment, but relaxed quickly and wrapped his arms around Clint, “Hey buddy, how you doing?”

Clint sniffed, “I’m- okay.”

“Good. No one’s going to get you with your Daddy and me watching your back.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.” Nick said, pressing his cheek to the top of Clint’s hair.

Phil came back downstairs with wet wipes, a clean diaper and clean pyjamas. They were black and white with cat ears on the hood. “Okay baby, let’s get you cleaned up.”

He settled Clint on the floor and made quick work of wiping the sweat from his skin, changing his diaper and dressing him. He pushed his pacifier into his mouth when he was done. Clint suckled on it to soothe himself.

“Would you like some hot chocolate Clint?” Phil asked, helping him to his feet.

“Yes please Daddy.”

“C’mon then,” Phil took his hand and led him towards the kitchen, “Would you like some too Nick?”

“Sure, why not?” He agreed, getting to his feet and switching the TV off. He sat back at the kitchen table and Clint crawled into his lap again while Phil set about making drinks. He needed snuggles right now, and he didn’t care who they came from.   
Phil placed two mugs in front of them, “Make sure he doesn’t burn himself.” He instructed, sitting across from them.

“Sure, here buddy.” Nick blew on Clint’s mug, then helped him to take a sip.

“Thanks Uncle Nick.” Clint mumbled.

“You’re welcome buddy.”

When Clint’s mug was empty he pushed his pacifier back into his mouth and settled into Nicks arms.

“Do you think you could go back to sleep now baby?” Phil asked quietly and Clint nodded sleepily.

“I think it’s time I went to bed too.” Nick said.

“C’mon then.” Phil held his hand out to Clint, who took it and stayed close as they travelled through the house locking doors and switching off lights.

“Night Phil, night buddy,” Nick said when they reached the guest room. Clint let go of Phil’s hand and wrapped his arms around Nick, “Night Uncle Nick.” Nick smiled and ruffled his hair.

“C’mon then sweetheart, bedtime.”

Clint let go of Nick and shuffled back to bed. Phil tucked him in, switched the light off, and climbed into his own side. Clint snuggled up to Phil. Phil wrapped his arms around him and kissed his forehead, “Get some sleep baby.”

“Love you Daddy.” Clint mumbled on a yawn.

“Love you too Clint.”

…

Phil woke up and smiled as he caught sight of Clint sleeping peacefully on his chest. He ran a hand down Clint’s back, he sighed and snuggled further into the warmth of Phil’s embrace. Phil felt his heart swell with love at the sight. Then he remembered the day before. The hellish mission, his nightmare and breakdown, the tears and the clinginess and felt his heart sink.

He’d never seen Clint so down and lost and scared. Even the day they recruited him he had put up a front, masking his true feelings. But this, this was open honesty. Open vulnerability. It broke Phil’s heart to see. But he didn’t know how to make it better.

He heard Nick moving around in the bathroom and contemplated the fact that Clint had been so openly vulnerable around him too, crying in his lap even. Maybe he was starting to trust Fury too.

Clint stirred in his arms and blinked awake. 

“Good morning beautiful.”

Clint smiled around his pacifier and squeezed his arms tighter around Phil. They lay quietly for a while, sleepily cuddling. Clint whined when Phil moved away. “Sorry baby, I have to go to the bathroom.”

Clint’s face twisted and he whispered, “don’t leave me Daddy.”

“I’m just going to the bathroom Clint, but you can come with me if you feel like you need to.” Clint bit his lip deciding. Eventually he shook his head and clutched his hawk and blanket to his chest. “I’ll be five minutes, I promise.”

Clint nodded and Phil rushed to the bathroom to relieve himself and brush his teeth as quickly as possible. When he came back and sat on the bed Clint wrapped himself around Phil like an octopus.

“Are you okay Sweetheart?” Phil asked, stroking a hand through Clint’s hair.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me Daddy. I get really scared every time you’re not with me,” Clint mumbled, his head buried in Phil’s neck.

“Oh Baby. It’s okay, we’ll work it out. I’ll stay with you for as long as you need me to.”

“Okay Daddy,” Clint agreed.

“Good. Shall we go get some breakfast?” Clint nodded. “Do you need changing first?” Clint blushed and nodded again. “Hey, it’s okay sweetheart, it’s necessary, no need to be embarrassed.”

Clint said nothing, but made it easy for Phil to clean him up and dress him in the cartoon t-shirt and lounge pants he’d laid out the night before.

Clint held on tightly to Phil’s hand as they went downstairs and refused to let go once he was sat in the kitchen until Phil promised he wouldn’t leave the room without telling him first.

“You alright kiddo?” Nick asked from behind his newspaper, putting it down to take a sip of coffee and assess his agent.

“Yes. No. I don’t know,” Clint mumbled, hunching in on himself.

“Huh. Do you want to talk about it? It might help.” Clint shook his head vigorously. “Alright then. But just so you know, you can come talk to me any time, about anything, alright?”

“Thanks Uncle Nick,” Clint breathed out.

Nick gave a satisfied nod. “So, what’re you two up to today?”

“That’s up to Clint,” Phil responded, serving them each some pancakes, Clint’s already cut up into chewable bites.

“Can we watch Robin Hood?” It was Clint’s go to comfort movie.

“Of course Baby,” Phil said, running a hand through Clint’s hair, his eyes shining with worry. “What about you Nick?”

“Oh, think I’m going back to the office. That thing in Guatemala escalated faster than we thought.”

“Need me to come in?” Phil was Nick’s go to guy when shit hit the fan, it’d saved his life several times in the rangers.

Nick glanced at Clint, who had frozen with the spoon half way to his mouth. “Nah, I think you should stay here and look after this little monster.” Clint relaxed and giggled when Nick ruffled his hair.

Phil seemed a little relieved too. “Yes Sir.”

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Phil, Clint or Nick, I am not Stan Lee in disguise... or am I?


End file.
